The Life He Once Knew
by Nicolea-Valentine
Summary: He may not always be good, but he serves a purpose. D/Hr, AU, non-HBP/DH compatible.


_ The Outline_

**I. The Beginning**

I learned, even at a young age, on the first night that I entered Hogwarts that no other house would ever be friends with Slytherins. I learned, but I wasn't able to understand why we were different than any of them. Of course I knew the basics – we were from families that praised another sort of Lord, we were from families that hated Mud-Bloods and Half-Bloods, we were from families that looked down upon everything that did not hold our ideals or morals. No one looked at us as other children attending school for an education; we were looked at for our parents' choices and crimes. We were looked at as Death Eaters because our parents were, no matter the fact that we ourselves were too young to even be initiated. They looked at us for the reason that Potter's parents were killed although we had not been the ones to point the wand or recite the killing curse.

What they hadn't known was that it all started with the Book.

**II. The Climax**

_A. History of the Book_

As most of you readers know before Hogwarts was founded, Salazar Slytherin believed that only Pure-bloods should be allowed its education. He believed that Pure-Bloods were the only true source of magic and that those of dirty blood had tainted the powers. Slytherin viewed magic as a precious stone to only be touched by those worthy, to only be held by those with the proper ambition to hold it. He was preaching the ideals of the past, before there were those who walked in both the Wizarding and the Muggle worlds; when we were all fairytales and rubbish. For his sake, I don't entirely think that he was incorrect in his wanting; I think that he was merely adverse to change. Either way, the other founders had disagreed adamantly, stating that if so much as a drop of magic flowed through the veins of a child, they were welcome to learn.

And that is how Hogwarts opened its doors, as a school for all children of magical ability to be educated and properly trained. Each founder took a group of students into their houses and co-existed for a number of years due to the house system. It is said that in later years, students of Ravenclaw could sometimes find the cunning founder in the darker corners of the library scribbling furiously on various sheets of parchment and muttering to himself. It is said that Slytherin grew mad with his Pure-blooded ideals and his ties to the purification of the past. His connections to the other founders, once his friends, grew strained and when Salazar Slytherin finally left Hogwarts, he had written the Book.

For years Salazar traveled the Wizarding World, preaching rules from his book to any Pure-Bloods who would listen. Some of the Pure-Bloods dismissed his rules as nothing more than prejudice and inequality amongst the Wizarding people. They had come to respect Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff for their strides in connecting all those of magical ability and felt that Slytherin was a mere loon. Though there were the few Pure-Bloods (those of the Slytherin nature) that agreed whole-heartedly with Salazar, quickly becoming his loyal followers and began teaching their wives, their children, themselves the rules. They taught their families who taught their families who taught theirs for generations to come.

_B. The Rules: Abridged Version_

Now you hadn't actually thought that I would let you know each and every rule Slytherin had written, did you? Perhaps some things need to remain a secret, perhaps I am evil in the way that I like to make you wonder, or perhaps I am letting you know the rules that are relevant to this story. Truth be told, a good majority of the Book is filled with the proper etiquette at dinner parties, proper etiquette for hosting a ball, proper etiquette in torturing those of dirty blood; that sort of thing. I believe though that the first two rules are the most important for the story that I am going to relay and that these rules should be kept in mind throughout it.

**Rule One **merely states that _Mud-Bloods, Half-Bloods, and any Pure-Bloods not of Slytherin descent shall never know of the Book. _Now I know that I had previously said Salazar traveled the world preaching the Book to all of worthy blood who would listen, so more than just his followers knew of its contents. This is quite true except for the fact that a year or so after his excursions and teachings, Slytherin's home was mysteriously burned to the ground and remnants of the once Hogwarts founder were lost to the flames. There were many a conjecture as to what had happened to him; his followers were convinced that he was alive and merely in hiding, most of the Wizarding population thought good riddance with both him and his crummy ideals. The followers dug through the wreckage for days, searching for their lost leader and their Book, whatever could keep them connected to their 'religion.' Nearer the end of the search, one wizard found the only pages untouched by the flames and the followers proceeded to bind them together, hiding the remainder of the Book away from the outsider's eyes.

Yes, I know what you are thinking. If the book was to remain a secret to all non-Slytherin Pure-Bloods, why in Merlin am I telling you? It's simple really; the story has to be told. The fact is that we, as a house, were ostracized from that school. That isn't to say that there weren't some bad seeds amongst us because there were, but that had happened in every house…even bloody perfect Gryffindor. All the houses degraded and abused each other; all the houses bled the same blood despite our titles. I realized early on at Hogwarts that when War stood on our doorstep and Death knocked on our door, they didn't judge who was better or who was worth more. In their eyes we were all equal, we had all committed crimes and done wrong, we were all humans going through life trying not to live forever, but trying to create something that did. We all had a legacy to leave and this would be mine. Not always 'good' because bad always came with the good, but truthful nonetheless. I am a Malfoy after all.

**Rule Two **goes on to say that _a Pure-Blooded Slytherin does not do what is best for him/herself, but rather what is best for the Pure-Blooded Slytherin community. _In other words, our lives are U-fucking-topian bliss for the bloody Stepford clan. If a Slytherin adult wizard wanted to become a teacher perhaps, but a Death Eater and/or spy would benefit the cause, he became a Death Eater and/or spy. If a Slytherin adult witch wanted to become a nurse, but a Death Eater and/or housewife would benefit the cause, she became a Death Eater and/or housewife. If a Slytherin teenager wanted to go to University to continue their education, but a Death Eater in training would benefit the cause…well, you understand where I am going with all of this. Naturally, Salazar's Book hadn't included the bit about Death Eaters; this example was slightly more modern.

When I was growing up, about four or five, I remember that my mother used to take her afternoon tea in the sun room while she painted. She created masterpiece after masterpiece, at least to me she did. I would lay on my stomach under her chair with my fists propping up my chin just marveling at the landscapes each brushstroke brought or the curves of various faces. Sometimes she would look down at me, smiling beautifully, and other times she would bring me into her lap and let me splash colour across blank canvases. One day, I walked into the sun room to find that it had become the sun-less room. Most of my mother's paintings were gone; the ones that were left had been destroyed. I had just begun to cry when my mother forcefully grabbed my arm and told me to knock it off. She told me that crying over broken paintings would get me nowhere and I was not to show my emotions ever ever again. I was confused when she told me that and I was confused when she threw me in my room, slamming the door behind her. My mother had always showed me compassion and had babied me when I had even the smallest scrape or bump. I learned in the years to come that Voldemort had began to rise back into power and that it was time for my mother to no longer do what was best for herself, but best for the Pure-Blooded Slytherin community. Even at the cost of loving me.

**III. The Conclusion**

I forewarn you readers now, that this story will be disturbingly unpleasant and in some ways quite morbid. I have left nothing out of this telling and have blown nothing out of context. Although you will find some dry wit and perhaps somewhat of a happy ending, but I don't like to think that destiny is pre-ordained. I like to think that we make our own destinies and that a human being should not live life dictated by words.

As the muggle poet Emerson once said, 'Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.'

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**Disclaimer: **I own nothing of Harry Potter, all is owned by J.K. Rowling and her vision. I only own the plot.

**Author's Notes: **So the account that I had this under..deleted the story. I've known that account to be glitchy in the past, but I hadn't used it for a while so I thought that it might be fine. Apparently not. Anyhow, I changed the title of the story as I found a more appropiate one and the summary. Please review and let me know what you think. I have had the idea for this piece for…God knows how long but I could never get it to come out properly. The other day I pulled up Word and just began scribbling down my thoughts and this is what came of it. I find it to be, quite honestly, my best work yet. I hope that the readers enjoy!


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